Bloom — is Result — to meet a Flower

Bloom — is Result — to meet a Flower
And casually glance
Would cause one scarcely to suspect
The minor Circumstance

Assisting in the Bright Affair
So intricately done
Then offered as a Butterfly
To the Meridian —

To pack the Bud — oppose the Worm —
Obtain it's right of Dew —
Adjust the Heat — elude the Wind —
Escape the prowling Bee —

Great Nature not to disappoint
Awaiting Her that Day —
To be a Flower, is profound
Responsibility —

Tie the strings to my Life, My Lord,

Tie the strings to my Life, My Lord,
Then, I am ready to go!
Just a look at the Horses —
Rapid! That will do!

Put me in on the firmest side —
So I shall never fall —
For we must ride to the Judgment —
And it's partly, down Hill —

But never I mind the steepest —
And never I mind the Sea —
Held fast in Everlasting Race —
By my own Choice, and Thee —

Good bye to the Life I used to live —
And the World I used to know —
And kiss the Hills, for me, just once —
Then — I am ready to go!

Gratitude — is not the mention

Gratitude — is not the mention
Of a Tenderness,
But it's still appreciation
Out of Plumb of Speech —

When the Sea return no Answer
By the Line and Lead
Proves it there's no Sea, or rather
A remoter Bed?

The Soul has Bandaged moments —

The Soul has Bandaged moments —
When too appalled to stir —
She feels some ghastly Fright come up
And stop to look at her —

Salute her, with long fingers —
Caress her freezing hair —
Sip, Goblin, from the very lips
The Lover — hovered — o'er —
Unworthy, that a thought so mean
Accost a Theme — so — fair —

The soul has moments of escape —
When bursting all the doors —
She dances like a Bomb, abroad,
And swings opon the Hours,

As do the Bee — delirious borne —
Long Dungeoned from his Rose —
Touch Liberty — then know no more —
But Noon, and Paradise —

The Soul's retaken moments —
When, Felon let along,
With shackles on the plumed feet,
And staples in the song,

The Horror welcomes her, again,
These, are not brayed of Tongue —

Had I not This, or This, I said,

Had I not This, or This, I said,
Appealing to Myself,
In moment of prosperity —
Inadequate — were Life —

"Thou has not Me, nor Me" — it said,
In moment of Reverse —
"And yet Thou are industrious —
No need — hadst Thou — of us — "?

My need — was all I had — I said
The need did not reduce —
Because the food — exterminate —
The hunger — does not cease —

But diligence — is sharper —
Proportioned to the chance —
To feed opon the Retrograde —
Enfeebles — the Advance —

Reportless Subjects, to the Quick

Reportless Subjects, to the Quick
Continual addressed —
But foreign as the Dialect
of Danes, unto the rest.

Reportless Measures, to the Ear
Susceptive — stimulus —
But like an Oriental Tale
To others, fabulous —

I've none to tell me to but Thee

I've none to tell me to but Thee
So when Thou failest, nobody —
It was a little tie —
It just held Two, not those it held
Since Somewhere thy sweet Face has spilled
Beyond my Boundary —

If things were opposite — and Me
And Me it were, that ebbed from Thee
On some unanswering Shore —
Would'st Thou seek so — just say
That I the Answer may pursue
Unto the lips it eddied through —
So — overtaking Thee —

Our journey had advanced —

Our journey had advanced —
Our feet were almost come
To that odd Fork in Being's Road —
Eternity — by Term —

Our pace took sudden awe —
Our feet — reluctant — led —
Before — were Cities — but Between —
The Forest of the Dead —

Retreat — was out of Hope —
Behind — a Sealed Route —
Eternity's White Flag — Before —
And God — at every Gate —

My Season's furthest Flower —

My Season's furthest Flower —
I tenderer commend
Because I found Her Kinsmanless —
A Grace without a Friend.

On the World you colored

On the world you colored
Morning painted rose —
Idle his Vermilion
Aimless crept the Glows
Over Realms of Orchards
I the Day before
Conquered with the Robin —
Misery — how fair
Till your wrinkled Finger
Shoved the Sun away
Midnight's awful Pattern
In the Goods of Day —

We grow accustomed to the Dark —

We grow accustomed to the Dark —
When Light is put away —
As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp
To witness her Good bye —

A Moment — We uncertain step
For newness of the night —
Then — fit our Vision to the Dark —
And meet the Road — erect —

And so of larger — Darknesses —
Those Evenings of the Brain —
When not a Moon disclose a sign —
Or Star — come out — within —

The Bravest — grope a little —
And sometimes hit a Tree
Directly in the Forehead —
But as they learn to see —

Either the Darkness alters —
Or something in the sight
Adjusts itself to Midnight —
And Life steps almost straight.

I took my Power in my Hand —

I took my Power in my Hand —
And went against the World —
'Twas not so much as David — had —
But I — was twice as bold —

I aimed my Pebble — but Myself
Was all the one that fell —
Was it Goliah — was too large —
Or was myself — too small?

Conjecturing a Climate

Conjecturing a Climate
Of unsuspended Suns —
Adds poignancy to Winter —
The shivering Fancy turns

To a fictitious Country
To palliate a Cold —
Not obviated of Degree —
Nor eased — of Latitude —

The Birds begun at Four o'clock —

The Birds begun at Four o'clock —
Their period for Dawn —
A Music numerous as space —
But neighboring as Noon —

I could not count their Force —
Their numbers did expend
As Brook by Brook bestows itself
To multiply the Pond.

The Listener — was not —
Except Occasional Man —
In homely industry arrayed —
To overtake the Morn —

Nor was it for applause —
That I could ascertain —
But independent Extasy
Of Universe, and Men —

By Six, the Flood had done —
No tumult there had been
Of Dressing, or Departure —
Yet all the Band — was gone —

The Sun engrossed the East —
The Day Resumed the World —
The Miracle that introduced
Forgotten, as fulfilled.

I felt my life with both my hands

I felt my life with both my hands
To see if it was there —
I held my spirit to the Glass,
To prove it possibler —

I turned my Being round and round
And paused at every pound
To ask the Owner's name —
For doubt, that I should know the sound —

I judged my features — jarred my hair —
I pushed my dimples by, and waited —
If they — twinkled back —
Conviction might, of me —

I told myself, "Take Courage, Friend —
That — was a former time —
But we might learn to like the Heaven,
As well as our Old Home"!

It tossed — and tossed —

It tossed — and tossed —
A little Brig I knew — o'ertook by Blast —
It spun — and spun —
And groped delirious, for Morn —

It slipped — and slipped —
As One that drunken — stept —
It's white foot tripped —
Then dropped from sight —

Ah, Brig — Good Night
To crew and You —
The Ocean's Heart too smooth — too Blue —
To break for You —

Because He loves Her

Because He loves Her
We will pry and see if she is fair
What difference is on her Face
From Features others wear.

It will not harm her magic pace
That we so far behind —
Her Distances propitiate
As Forests touch the Wind

Not hoping for his notice vast
But nearer to adore
'Tis Glory's overtakelessness
That makes our running poor.

A Prison gets to be a friend —

A Prison gets to be a friend —
Between its Ponderous face
And Our's — a Kinsmanship express —
And in it's narrow Eyes —

We come to look with gratitude
For the appointed Beam
It deal us — stated as Our food —
And hungered for — the same —

We learn to know the Planks —
Than answer to Our feet —
So miserable a sound — at first —
Nor even now — so sweet —

As plashing in the Pools —
When Memory was a Boy —
But a Demurer Circuit√
A Geometric Joy —

The Posture of the Key
That interrupt the Day
To Our Endeavor — Not so real
The Cheek of Liberty —

As this Phantasm steel —
Whose features — Day and Night —
Are present to us — as Our Own —
And as escapeless — quite —

The narrow Round — the stint —
The slow exchange of Hope —
For something passiver — Content
Too steep for looking up —

The Liberty we knew
Avoided — like a Dream —
Too wide for any night but Heaven —
If That — indeed — redeem —

Nature — the Gentlest Mother is,

Nature — the Gentlest Mother is,
Impatient of no Child —
The feeblest — or the Waywardest —
Her Admonition mild —

In Forest — and the Hill —
By Traveller — be heard —
Restraining Rampant Squirrel —
Or too impetuous Bird —

How fair Her Conversation —
A Summer Afternoon —
Her Household — Her Assembly —
And when the Sun go down —

Her Voice among the Aisles
Incite the timid prayer
Of the minutest Cricket —
The most unworthy Flower —

When all the Children sleep —
She turns as long away
As will suffice to light Her lamps —
Then bending from the Sky —

With infinite Affection —
And infiniter Care —
Her Golden finger on Her lip —
Wills Silence — Everywhere —

Volcanoes be in Sicily

Volcanoes be in Sicily
And South America
I judge from my Geography
Volcano nearer here
A Lava step at any time
Am I inclined to climb
A Crater I may contemplate
Vesuvius at Home

Four Trees — opon a solitary Acre —

Four Trees — opon a solitary Acre —
Without Design
Or Order, or Apparent Action —
Maintain —

The Sun — opon a Morning meets them —
The Wind —
No nearer Neighbor — have they —
But God —

The Acre — gives them — Place —
They — Him — Attention of Passer by —
Of Shadow, or of Squirrel, haply —
Or Boy —

What Deed is Their's unto the General Nature —
What Plan
They severally — retard — or further —
Unknown —

You taught me Waiting with Myself —

You taught me Waiting with Myself
Appointment strictly kept —
You taught Me fortitude of Fate —
This — also — I have learnt —

An Altitude of Death, that could
No bitterer debar
Than Life — had done — before it —
Yet — there is a Science more —

The Heaven you know — to understand
That you be not ashamed
Of Me — in Christ's bright Audience
Opon the further Hand —

Revolution is the Pod

Revolution is the Pod
Systems rattle from
When the Winds of Will are stirred
Excellent in Bloom

But except it's Russet Base
Every Summer be
The entomber of itself,
So of Liberty —

Left inactive on the Stalk
All it's Purple fled
Revolution shakes it for
Test if it be dead —

Quite empty, quite at rest,

Quite empty, quite at rest,
The Robin locks her Nest, and tries her Wings —
She does not know a Route
But puts her Craft about
For rumored springs —
She does not ask for Noon —
She does not ask for Boon —
Crumbles and homeless, of but one request —
The Birds she lost —

Pigmy seraphs — gone astray —

Pigmy seraphs — gone astray —
Velvet people from Vevay —
Belles from some lost summer day —
Bees exclusive Coterie —

Paris could not lay the fold
Belted down with emerald —
Venice could not show a cheek
Of a tint so lustrous meek —
Never such an ambuscade
As of briar and leaf displayed
For my little damask maid —

I had rather wear her grace
Than an Earl's distinguished face —
I had rather dwell like her
Than be "Duke of Exeter" —
Royalty enough for me
To subdue the Bumblebee.

Not at Home to Callers

Not at Home to Callers
Says the Naked Tree —
Jacket due in April —
Wishing you Good Day —

Me, change! Me, alter!

Me, change! Me, alter!
Then I will, when on the Everlasting Hill
A Smaller Purple grows —
At Sunset, or a lesser glow
Flickers opon Cordillera —
At Day's superior close!

Kill your Balm — and it's Odors bless you —

Kill your Balm — and it's Odors bless you —
Bare your Jessamine — to the storm —
And she will fling her maddest perfume —
Haply — your Summer night to Charm —

Stab the Bird — that built in your bosom —
Oh, could you catch her last Refrain —
Bubble! "forgive" — "Some better" — Bubble!
"Carol for Him — when I am gone"!

How soft this Prison is

How soft this Prison is
How sweet these sullen bars
No Despot but the King of Down
Invented this repose

Of Fate if this is all
Has he no added Realm
A Dungeon but a Kinsman is
Incarceration — Home.

I tie my Hat — I crease my Shawl —

I tie my Hat — I crease my Shawl —
Life's little duties do — precisely —
As the very least
Were infinite — to me —

I put new Blossoms in the Glass —
And throw the Old — away —
I push a petal from my Gown
That anchored there — I weigh
The time 'twill be till six o'clock —
So much I have to do —
And yet — existence — some way back —
Stopped — struck — my ticking — through —

We cannot put Ourself away
As a completed Man
Or Woman — When the errand's done
We came to Flesh — opon —
There may be — Miles on Miles of Nought —
Of Action — sicker far —
To simulate — is stinging work —
To cover what we are

From Science — and from Surgery —
Too Telescopic eyes
To bear on us unshaded —
For their — sake — Not for Our's —

Therefore — we do life's labor —
Though life's Reward — be done —
With scrupulous exactness —
To hold our Senses — on —